Crushed red peppers. Dried chives. One basil leaf. Peppermint. A cinnamon stick. Assorted dried herbs.....
I'm watching my little brother put all of this in some sort of brew that he expects me to drink. He seems quite confident in his "magic tea" and promises that it will help my throat.
I take a big sniff. Peppers and chives invade my olfactory system. Not a good start. Some of the herbs are too small for the tea sifter, and they float at the top. It takes on a pale green hue tinged with orange. How is that even possible?
I look up from my mug and into his face. He is so confident that he can help me. He doesn't complain when I doubt him. He isn't discouraged by my reluctant grip on the warm ceramic or down-turned expression as I glance once more at the mysterious brew.
In the limited time that I've studied natural herbal remedies, I've picked up a thing or two on natural antibiotics. What seemed random in this "magic tea" of my brother's makes sense from the perspective of what those herbs do. That's not even the important part.
My brother is doing the best thing that he can for me right now. So I try not to breath and drink up......
only to find that it actually tastes good. It's got enough heat to leave a warm feeling in my throat that is quite soothing against sore, inflamed tonsils. (Stupid strep.) The aftertaste is cooled by peppermint. Everything else is left as a hint.
Who knew? It may look gross, but my brother can make good tea.
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Who Did What Now?
UmorismoSpilled milk is nothing to cry over, but sometimes it's worth a laugh. What would mother say if you decided to drink it straight off the floor? What would your cat say if he could type? Has your brother ever said that thing that everyone in th...
